I crave time in all its duration, and I want to be myself unconditionally.
Life is whatever we conceive it to be.
Isn't joyful or painful this pain in which I rejoice
What Hells and Purgatories and Heavens I have inside of me! But who sees me do anything that disagrees with life--me, so calm and peaceful?
Writing is like paying myself a formal visit.
For who expects nothing, all that comes is grateful